Distortion
by Blackrazgriz
Summary: She escaped her dystopian future to search for a means to prevent it from ever occurring. But when she finds herself warped into a world she was not familiar with, she becomes entrapped in a web of events that could effect not only her world, but the worlds of so many different universes.
1. And So It Begins

And So It Begins...

She did not know what to expect when she made the trek back. But she _knew_ it was certainly not what was currently happening.

A portal materialized over a white, sandy beach, containing naught but a sole woman. Unfortunately for the traveler, she was suspended around 20 feet in the air with no platform or safety net under her to catch her inevitable fall.

So the first experience she had when she arrived was dropping 20 feet into the beach below.

Taken by surprise, the traveler was not able to descend as safely as she wanted. Although she landed on her feet, years of experience instinctively driving her movements, she could not balance herself properly. She stumbled and collapsed on herself, rolling all over the rough sand of the beach before friction finally caused her body to stop.

Attempting to stand up after her abrupt arrival, the traveler forcefully doubled over in pain. She let out a helpless yelp, uncharacteristic of her, and desperately clasped her ankle for minor comfort.

'Great…' She thought to herself. 'I sprained my ankle. What a unfortunate way to start the mission.' She looked around for a large stick that she could use as a crutch of sorts. She would use her sword, but it was not long enough to support her body. After scanning the beach for a while, she came to the conclusion that there could not possibly be a stick the size that she needed in an barren place like this. Especially one so devoid of plant life, primarily trees.

The woman sighed in despair. Not even several minutes have passed since she came to this world, and she was already dealing with a monumental crisis. She was suppressing all of the stress that she was dealing with in her life, but now she just wanted to give up and cry. All of her life, all she had ever done was fight an impossible battle, clinging to the minutest hope for a better future. The losses continued to pile on her, and when this alternative presented itself, she gladly accepted the risks. This was the final option, the only choice, but already the situation looked dire.

With no other choice, the traveler from another world feebly crawled her way towards the ever-flowing ocean. Maybe the waters held some healing properties that would nurture her ankle to prime working condition.

'Heh…' she thought. 'I should stop thinking like that. It's gotten me nowhere. There really is no point…'

Lost in her cynical thoughts, the young woman failed to hear the faint calls for her attention.

* * *

The natural ambiance of the beach was only disrupted by the gentle humming of the ginger-haired teenager. For her, today was yet another fantastic day, as she was given a day-off from the strenuous activities of her village. Of course, she only had one destination in mind, and once she heard the news she headed straight for the beach.

Everything about this beach enticed the girl. The rolling waves that sifted the sands under her bare feet. The cries of the seagulls drifting calmly across the skies. The omnipresent scent of seawater that tickled the fibers of her nostrils. Every, single, aspect of this beach wrapped the girl in awe. But what captivated her far more than the everyday happenings of the beach was the sheer size of the ocean itself. It was massive. Staring off into the sea, the girl could see nothing but water. Blue water that reflected the sky above and the glittering light of the sun. Her periphery was filled with nothing but the sight of the large mass of water, and she could not help but feel utterly fascinated.

When the boats arrived on the piers of her village, she always wondered where they originated from. The different boats of varying sizes cruising fleetingly across the ocean surface, each with a story of its journey, each with its own crew of unique people. Sometimes, while watching the comings and goings of the ships, she fantasized about the prospect of leaving on one of the vessels and seeing a whole new world. Traveling to new countries, learning of new cultures, meeting new people. Just the thought of that alone was enough to make her giggle in elation.

The more she thought of the possibilities, the more she could no longer hold off her anticipation of the days event, and she broke off into a merry skip, with her long red hair flying gently by the ocean breeze. She wondered what sort of fantastical sights awaited her today. Maybe she would see a dolphin leaping majestically out of the water! Or maybe she would see the fin of a great whale treading across the sea! Probably she would bear witness to the fabled Wind Fish of her late mother's ballad!

She laughed slightly at the last thought. Even she knew that the Wind Fish was nothing more than a child's tale. Still the thought of the mythical creature's existence brought excitement to the girl. That kind of exoticism would spice—

A bright light flashed from the horizon, interrupting all of the teen's thoughts and forcing her to flinch. Trying to get a sense of what was going on, the girl covered the top of her eyes with her palm and looked towards the direction of the light burst. What she saw had easily trumped all of her previous thoughts in regards to exoticism.

A…a something (the teenager could not adequately describe what she was seeing) had appeared in the sky right before her eyes. The initial flash of light had dissipated, allowing the girl better vision to gauge what was occurring at the moment. The thing was circular in shape, and contained around its borders various glyphs that bore a strange resemblance to Altean characters.

Her desire to examine the spectacle further was short-lived. The circular phenomenon had degenerated, leaving behind only an object that spiraled straight towards the ground below.

The ginger quickly dashed towards the falling object almost instinctively, with nothing but an intense yearning to know driving her steps. From the distance, the silhouetted object had managed to land upright, but it quickly tumbled over itself and rolled down.

The closer the ginger got to the epicenter of the phenomenon, the clearer her vision was getting. She could now see that the mysterious object was, in fact, a person. Curiosity transformed into concern, and the girl sprinted forward with all the energy she could muster, trying to get to the person's side as fast as she could.

While she was running, she tried to grab the person's attention. She wildly flailed her arms about in the air and frantically screamed at the top of her lungs, but the person was oblivious to her calls. Instead, the person was intently focused on limping towards the ocean. The ginger could tell that the landing did a number on the person's body (how much pain exactly she could not determine from her position). A feeling of dread welled on the girl's stomach, and she redoubled her efforts. She hoped with all of her heart that she would get to the person on time before something terrible happened.

* * *

The traveler had crawled only a short distance towards the ocean before she finally caught wind of the frantic ramblings of someone (or something). The noises were still a good gap apart from where she laid, but it was rapidly getting closer.

'Perfect…' The traveler lamented. 'The Risen must have followed me…those persistent…' She bit her lower lip in frustration. 'I can't do much right now! If they found me, they could easily kill me!'

She knew she was in no condition to fight. Nevertheless, she unsheathed her sword and prepared herself as best she could.

'If there's any merit to this situation,' she thought to herself, trying to lighten herself up. 'It's that, should I die, at least I died with father's sword at hand.'

The enigmatic figure approached her position much faster than she anticipated, but she was able to pick up a few key details. Unlike the grotesque growls she grew accustomed to hearing from the Risen, the cries were more on the lines of high-pitched squeals. They were most likely from a young girl. Whether this girl was a comrade or the instrument of her demise was yet to be clarified.

After a while, the girl had arrived within the otherworldly traveler's line of sight. She was of modest size, most likely around 5'04'', and her age may have ranged between 16-18 years from what she could tell by her youthful features. Her emerald green eyes contrasted sharply with her garnet-colored hair and ruby amulet that hanged over her neck. She wore a light blue sundress with an ornate golden design encircling the borders of the dress and a large tight orange obi that was tied to a ribbon in the back. She appeared unarmed and harmless, to say the least, but the traveler's defenses did not lower in the slightest. In spite of the clear disadvantage she held, her eyes were firm and resolute; never wavering, never faltering.

Her glare had an intimidating effect on the redhead. As soon as she saw the fierce eyes and sword pointed at her direction, her face flashed with horror. The traveler would have hoped that the girl had stopped approaching and fled, but the girl appeared indecisive. She tried taking some steps forward, but the traveler's relentless gaze and steadfast stance caused her to freeze in place.

The traveler thought it would be wise to capitalize on this opportunity. Her body would not cooperate with her however, as she collapsed in pain after attempting to stand. This time she did not yell in pain, merely grasping her injured ankle to stave the throbbing.

Whatever intimidation factor the traveler held over the girl vanished when the girl began to advance. Her face did not contain any signs of malicious intent, however, as she had a look of genuine concern over the traveler's wellbeing.

The closer the teenager got, the farther her stomach fell, and panic started to grip her tightly. At last, when the ginger was close enough that the traveler could take in every minuscule detail of her person…

She tripped.

In the most unremarkable, uninventive, uninspired, clichéd fashion imaginable, the ginger fell flat on her face and skidded across the sands for several inches before stopping.

The girl raised her oblivious face from the ground, grains of sand planted on her brow, cheeks, and nose. Her green eyes made contact with the traveler's matchlessly crafted masquerade mask. She blinked for a while, a hue of red growing quickly on the girl's cheeks. Frantically, she turned around in an attempt to hide her extremely noticeable blush.

Little did the girl know, the mask that the traveler wore also concealed her burning blush. Quite possibly for a different reason than the girl had. She could not believe that this clumsy, overexcited teenager nearly gave her a significant scare.

The traveler saw that the girl had just raised before her hands to her cheeks and lightly slapped herself before turning around and facing her again. The extremely stern look the girl was giving was hilariously juxtaposed by sand still lodged in her face. The two stared at each other for a while before the girl broke into a nervous chuckle, her facade crumbling under the "pressure." Rather, it was more like she did not know what to do in this predicament. She scratched the back of her head and began to mumble something in a language that she had never heard before.

'She's definitely not a Risen…' the traveler thought to herself. 'As mindless as those monsters are, even they are not this incompetent.'

A perplexed expression spread across the traveler's face as the girl continued speaking in weird language. "Excuse me," the traveler spoke up, cutting the girl from whatever nonsense she was talking about. "I don't mean to be rude but I have absolutely no idea what you are saying."

This was true. She had become fluent in all the major languages in the world. She was obligated to, even though her world was on the brink of annihilation. She was a sovereign, the crown princess of the Halidom of Ylisse. It was mandatory for her to be adept at multiple languages, in the unlikelihood that her world had bounced back from the catastrophe that plagued it. Communication is essential to the reconstruction of the world, and if she was not able to discuss strategies with sovereigns from other countries, that would only make the process more difficult than it has to be.

But this…the traveler can honestly say she had never heard this language before. It was as unknown to her as her current location, and it baffled her as to what kind of wonders awaited her in this world.

The teenage girl looked as though she came to an epiphany. Frantically, she lowered herself into a kowtow, keeping her head planted to the ground. She refused to rise and meet the stranger's masked gaze.

"You…Lord Mars..." the teenager finally said. The ginger spoke in a rare dialect that the traveler was vaguely aware of. "…I right?"

'This sounds like it could be an ancient Altean dialect…' contemplated the traveler. 'But why would she speak it? Her words are all jumbled up too. She may be a novice with the language…and who exactly is this "Mars" person?'

The traveler took a while to analyze the red-head's words. "Um…no." she answered. "I am not 'Mars.' My name is…Marth."

Just like she rehearsed. No one from this timeline needs to know her true identity. It would be problematic if people knew that she was Lucina, the as-of-yet unborn daughter of Chrom, exalt of Ylisse. What was important was accomplishing the mission. Her sole purpose for being in this unknown land: saving the world.

The girl pointed her fingers skyward in an expression of realization. She reflexively looked at Lucina's mask, but quickly buried her head to the ground.

"I sorry!" the ginger repeated apologetically. She certainly was not well versed in the language, incoherently putting words together to form "sentences." Still, it was better than having her speak in that other language. Lucina would have been unable to proceed with that barrier.

"Relax, young one." Lucina reassured, remembering to deepen her voice to mask it as masculine. It was evident from the teenager's reaction that she was aware of Lucina's status as the legendary Hero-King of lore. In order to relax the awestruck girl, Lucina rested her hand on the girl's shoulder and lifted her chin with her slender fingers. Lucina smiled gently, letting the ginger know that it was okay to be less formal for the context. The red-head reciprocated with a bright smile of her own, ecstatic to know that she did not have to perform all of those stuffy formalities.

Whatever tension that remained in the air evaporated into nothingness as the two ladies comforted the other with their smiles. Lucina, seeing that the girl posed no significant threat, sheathed her sword. The teenager also rose from her kowtow. Lucina found that she was slightly taller than the teenager, which made it easier to keep eye contact with her. Lucina grew serious though. There were many questions she had, and maybe this girl, as weird as she was, could answer them.

"Honor Marth meet you it is!" the teenager exclaimed brightly. She bowed slightly as a gesture of respect to accompany her greeting.

Lucina raised her hand slightly. "Peace, friend." She reminded. Although she was royalty, she did not want to become overly accustomed to such formalities. "The pleasure is mine…" Lucina thought for a second. "…pray tell me your name, young one?"

"Oh!" the girl yelped absentmindedly. "I sorry!" She bowed over and over again in apology.

"It's okay." Lucina reassured. She was really hoping that she would not need to get used to this.

Despite Lucina's discouragements, the girl continued to express remorse in such an irrational fashion. Satisfied that her apology was received (her obliviousness made her unaware that Lucina had long forgiven her) she pressed both her palms to her cheeks and slapped them lightly a few times.

"I Marin!" she announced aloud. "Nice meet you!"


	2. Acclimation

**Acclimation**

"Hello Marin," Lucina greeted courteously. To further solidify her façade, she took Marin's palm and kissed it. When she was young, she saw her father perform such an act to other ladies. He had explained that was how men of nobility greeted "fair ladies." At the time, she did know how to feel about a gesture as intimate as that. But now she needed to do all that she could to pass around as "Marth." All of his mannerisms, his habits and his dislikes, everything he ever stood for she needed to incorporate into her being. That also meant that she needed to ignore and hide all traces of her femininity.

Marin's response was more than what she expected, however. The impressionable teenager became completely flustered, with her entire face turning bright red from shyness. Her lips twitch erratically, unsure of what emotion to feel at the moment, and the gesture stunned her into silence and compliance.

"Milady?" Lucina called out worriedly. Marin's cast her eyes downwards, trying to avoid Lucina's gaze. Her short bangs did very little to disguise the deep blush held in her cheeks.

"I-I f-fine…" Marin stuttered timidly. She tried helpless to cover her rising embarrassment, but the more she attempted the more blatant it became. Lucina slowly shook her head in disbelief. Marin was a…interesting character to say the least. Nevertheless, she did not have the time nor the luxury to enjoy idle chatter. Her mission was of vital importance, and she was racing against the clock to save the world.

"La-err, Marin." Lucina quickly corrected herself. She did not want this girl to get any further wrong ideas. Lucina decided to restrain the flattery she provided to the girl, as to avoid a repeat of the girl's breakdown. "I don't mean to be rude, but I am in a bit of a hurry. Would you kindly inform me of our current whereabouts?"

Marin rested her chin between her index and thumb, appearing to be deep in thought. Perhaps she did not understand Lucina's wording? Lucina was about to elaborate with simpler terms when Marin spoke up.

"You Toronbo Shores in are." Marin confirmed, confident in the phrasing of her sentence. She smiled widely and nodded to herself, apparently proud of her own accomplishments…whatever that may be.

Still Lucina was not quite sure of what to make of Marin's statement. Toronto Shows? Were they at an outdoor play or something?

"Umm…" Lucina began, trying to find the least offensive method of asking her question. "Where in Ylisse is Toronto Shows?" Lucina was absolutely certain that she knew of all the locales for her beloved country. Not once in any of the maps or atlases was a place called "Toronto" ever mentioned.

A perplexing look flashed across Marin's face. "Ylisse? Toronto Shows?" She took a moment of deep contemplation before finally understanding what Lucina was talking about. "Nonono! Not 'Toronto Shows!' 'Toronbo Shores!'" She laughed at the misinterpretation of her words. "I sorry! Speak no good Altean. I beginner."

Lucina nodded. This revelation confirmed several of her suspicions. Marin was indeed a novice at the language, and she did speak in an Altean dialect. This ancient dialect made for a difficult time comprehending many of the words she was speaking. This revelation, however, sparked some questions. Why speak in such an outdated dialect? Who would still be teaching their children to speak as such in a time and age like this? She also had no idea where she was, and "Toronbo Shores" was still an unknown location in any chart she has ever laid eyes on. Before she could ponder further, Marin had asked some questions of her own.

"Um…Lord Marth…" Marin began, trying to piece together the proper words. "What a Ylisse?"

It was Lucina's turn to be baffled. "You must be joking, right? How do you not know your own homeland?" She then thought for a couple of seconds. "…Ylisse is your homeland, right?"

Marin innocently shook her head. "Ylisse no homeland. I know no Ylisse. Ylisse confuse. My homeland Hyrule!" Smiling, Marin took Lucina's hand and with her own hand waved across the horizon. "This Hyrule! Toronbo Shores, Mabe Village, all Hyrule! You know not?"

"Hy…rule?" Lucina mouthed. Hyrule? No, _that _name doesn't resonate in Lucina's memories. There were definitely no records anywhere of a place called Hyrule, as far as she knew. She thoroughly studied the different countries, kingdoms, and cultures of the world.

All of these bizarre answers, the way that Marin refused to properly answer her questions, and the increasing number of questions that were popping into her head was starting to frustrate the princess of another world.

But if what Marin said was true, there was only one conclusion Lucina could draw; this is not the "Ylisse" that she knew. This troubled her deeply. The sole reason she took it upon herself to make this one-way trip was to save her future. She never even considered the possibility of a misfire occurring within the time travel. Now, having arrived at a place that was not the Ylisse of the past, it seemed apparent that she had already failed her mission.

'No!' Lucina countered in her mind. 'There must be a way to return back! I've come this far, I won't let any mishap deter me from my mission!'

Lucina quickly considered the best course of action for this predicament. 'For the time being, it would be wise to gather information on this "Hyrule" place that Marin spoke of fondly.' From there, she could delve further and find the best solution to this crisis.

Suddenly, Lucina's ankle flared in intense pain, causing the princess to wince.

"You okay?" Marin asked worriedly, kneeling beside Lucina.

"I'm…not in the best condition, but I can manage…" Lucina answered, trying to hold back her flinches. Lucina was so caught up with the mystery behind her situation that she had completely forgotten about her sprained ankle. "If its okay with you, would you kindly assist me in standing upright?"

"Yes!" Marin said jubilantly. Marin held her arm out for Lucina to grab on to. Lucina took extra care not to add any pressure to her injured foot as she arose from the ground. Slowly, the two ladies were able to get Lucina on her functioning foot, arms held around Marin for added support.

"How far are we from the nearest town or village?" Lucina asked. She deeply hoped they weren't miles away from the closest pocket of civilization.

"Close." Marin answered, relieved with providing one word answers. Lucina noted that Marin struggled with formulating sentences very much. Just how she could understand every word she spoke was beyond her. Still, she was grateful that she encountered someone with some knowledge of the Ylissean tongue, in spite of the fact that Marin had no idea what Ylisse was. "Mabe Village. My home. You like!"

"That's good to hear." Lucina smiled. Who knows? She might actually find some joy and solace in Marin's village. There probably was a plethora of activities to engage in as a means to pass the time. The gods only know the last time Lucina had a minor moment of respite.

Mabe Village…the start of her adventure in the land of "Hyrule." In truth, intense anticipation and excitement easily overrode whatever anxiety she may have felt when she first arrived. The mere prospect of traversing this unknown land made her shiver eagerly.

With help from Marin, Lucina bravely took her first step in the land of Hyrule…

…only to collapse once again, raked with unimaginable pain.

She screamed. Howled. Moaned. Yelled. She squeezed her head between her palms trying in a vain attempt to lessen the pain. But the headache throbbed harder for exponentially severe anguish.

"Lord Marth, what happen?" Marin asked worriedly trying to comfort Lucina to the best of her ability.

Lucina tried to answer, but what left her mouth was a garbled mess of agonizing screams. Now clenching her head with both hands, Lucina fought desperately to soothe herself. Yet the crippling headache only got worse for the troubled princess. Her breathing quickened as her world enveloped her in darkness. The more she tried to think, the faster the intensity of the pain rose until finally she was no longer able to tolerate it. She shut her eyes tightly and welcomed the embrace of blackness.

She barely recognized Marin's despairing cries. As the light was snuffed out of her she was also becoming unaware of her pleas, sounding more like gibbering nonsense with each passing second.

'Why…me…' Lucina lamented when the darkness seized her.

* * *

Marin struggled to hold back the tears that accumulated inside of her ducts. A comatose Marth laid on her bed, resting peacefully from the way his diaphragm rose and fell rhythmically. He had been in this state for three days and counting, with Marin volunteering to look after the unfortunate prince. She hardly left the prince's side, only breaking to use the restroom. She ate by his side, and she slept on the chair next to the bed.

She knew that her inaction would put her family in a financial crisis, but she couldn't just leave him behind to suffer and possibly die. Her father Tarin, being the kind and understanding Samaritan and loving father that he was, allowed Marin to nurse the prince back to pristine health. Tarin also contributed somewhat to his care, going frequently to the forest to forage some medicinal roots and herbs. Or rather that was the plan anyways. He would return each day with a small bag of medicine and another bag, roughly three times larger, full of exotic mushrooms.

That was the sort of person Tarin was. By all means, he was a completely lovable man. But when it came to mushrooms…he would do anything within his power to collect and consume them. Marin is still surprised that they have yet to move to the Mushroom Kingdom.

Regardless of her father's habits, Marin stood by Marth's side. But the suspense of not knowing his fate was driving her to the brink of her emotions.

She did not know why she resonated so closely to the prince. He appeared, quite literally, from out of the blue. He asked so many bizarre questions, and showed that he had absolutely no knowledge of the world around him. Admittedly, she had many questions for the prince too.

He must know a lot about the outside world! He must have some sort of knowledge of the countries outside of Hyrule! She wanted to as him all about Altea. Altea seemed so far away from her, since she lived all the way on the west coast of Hyrule. She was so enamored with the idea of being a prince in a far-off kingdom like Altea! Well, technically Altea was a principality, but those details were unimportant! What was life inside a castle like? Was he served every moment of the day by an attractive servant? Did he ever have to fight a dragon? Have he ever met a dragon? What about monsters? Demons? Trolls? COULD HE RIDE A HORSE?

Oh how she always dreamed of riding horses.

She wanted to ask about this "Ylisse" place that he was so persistent about. Never in any of the maps she had peeked into had she seen a place with the name of Ylisse. Maybe it was his home town? No, princes lived in castles, right? Then maybe his castle's name? Horse? Loved one? Oh she could not wait until he woke up!

Maybe that was why she was having these emotions for a person she had just met. Maybe her curiosity was overriding her rational thought. Whatever the reason maybe, she could not deny that she had a vested interest with Marth.

But, more importantly than all those other questions, when Marth wakes up (keeping optimistic made her feel better about an uncertain future) she had one question that was paramount above all others she may have inquired about.

Why did Marth have a…a…vagina?

Her face subconsciously tinged in a deep red. 'It's not like I'm a pervert or anything like that!' She thought to herself. 'I'm just a normal 16 year old girl! I mean, I don't know what a boy's…thing…looks like, and I totally wasn't trying to take advantage of Prince Marth while he was asleep or anything…IT JUST HAPPENED!'

Her cheeks darkened in color the more she thought about Marth's sex. It was true that she originally had no "intention" of peeking down at Marth's genitalia. Her discovery happened by complete accident.

Shortly after the first day that Marth was brought to Mabe Village, a foul odor was emanating from his person. Immediately, Marin realized what the stench as and felt completely idiotic for overlooking such an obvious fact; all humans have an urgent need to excrete their wastes, regardless of their conscious state. It was only a matter of time before Marth "went to the bathroom" on himself. For a while, she debated whether she or her father should clean the prince up. Of course it would not be to the same quality that he was used to, but he did not have the luxury at the moment to demand such refined cleaning.

Personally, she did not want to do it. Just the thought of thoroughly cleaning the feces, urine, and contaminated bed sheets and clothing sickened her. It was gross! It was disgusting! Yet…yet…

Soon, Marin's entire face as a deep red and boiling hot. 'Okay…maybe I kinda, sorta, a little bit wanted to know what a guy's…weewee…looked like.' She thought in embarrassment. 'I couldn't help it! All the girls in the village always gossiped about it and I…and I…I'm not a pervert!'

That was her mentality when she finally summoned up the courage to clean up the prince. Fortunately, her father was busy at work, and she did not have to go to school, so nobody would know of her dark deeds. She removed all of the wet sheets placed atop of Marth, and timidly began to remove the prince's pants. She noted that the prince had curvaceous hips, much like her on. But she paid no mind to that detail.

Taking in the largest gulp in her entire life, she cautiously took off Marth's dirty and filthy undergarments. Although she covered her nose to prevent herself from smelling the grotesque odor, she felt herself getting slightly heated from the sheer anticipation of the moment. She took deep, labored breaths with each millimeter that she pulled, until she finally could not bear the suspense anymore and yanked the article off in one fell swoop.

Her immediate reaction was to close her eyes. 'I'm not a pervert!' She kept thinking to herself as she held the unclean underwear in her hand.

Shyly, she lifted one of her eyes open, still thinking to herself that she was not a pervert. What she saw shocked her into opening both eyes in disbelief.

She was expecting to see…something. All the girls in the village bragged about how "big," "long," and "thick" a guy's thingy was, as well as how "small" and "fragile" his…balls…were. So, with her rather vivid imagination, that was exactly what she was expecting.

She saw none of that.

Instead of a thingy and balls, what Marin saw was a small, bulging clitoris above a flat urethra and a larger hole, all covered by her vulva. No thingy. No balls. Nothing irrefutable that would distinguish Marth from another girl like herself.

Her shock caused her to drop the underwear to the ground and retreat several paces backwards. 'Is…is Marth a girl?' Was the logical conclusion that Marin came across. 'Then…why would all the newspapers and magazines lie? All of the papers say that Marth as a handsome prince, and princes are supposed to be boys…right?' She did not know for certain. At the very least, she knew that Hyrule had a princess, and she was clearly a woman. Well, "clearly" doesn't count for anything anymore. For Marth's case, anyways.

If Marth was indeed a woman, why did she need to conceal her sex? Was it a matter of Altean national security? Was there a dispute for the throne, and this was the ultimate settlement? She knew that it was not supposed to be her concern. Yet her mind would not drop the subject. Question after question popped into her head, and she had desired an answer for all of them.

As such, Marin decided that, for the sake of scientific research, she should further strip Marth down to the bare essentials.

Marth had bandaged her chest tightly. If there was any doubt left in Marin's mind (which there should not have been), it was completely erased asunder. Feminine breasts (from what she felt out, thinking 'I'm not a pervert!' in the meanwhile), a curvaceous figure, and a vagina…it was indisputable. Marth was indeed a female.

Marin didn't know what to think. It wasn't too much of a stretch for her to say that her entire life was a lie. Hyrule and Altea had maintained a prosperous alliance since long before she was born. It was a long held "fact" that Marth, the prince of Altea, was a male. He (she?) had even been so charming when Marin first met him (her?) His infectious charm had even been enough to swoon poor Marin into a helpless crush, despite their short time together. But now…now everything was so confusing…

The sound of rustling stirred Marin away from her thoughts. Marth had begun to roll around his bed uneasily.

Quickly, Marin held Marth's hand, hoping that the warmth of her palm would somehow ease the troubled prince. Thankfully, Marth seemed to settle herself down, a content smile growing on her face.

Marin sighed in relief. She noticed that she as still holding on to Marth's hand. She had thought that feelings of disgust from holding another woman's hands would plague her mind. Yet, she only felt comfort from the grasp. Marth's own palm was warm to the touch, and that fact alone reassured Marin that everything will be alright. Besides, it felt…right. Holding Marth's hand. Maybe Marin still thought of her as a man. Nevertheless, she could easily get used to this feeling.

However, that quiet comfort was short-lived. Marth's expression twisted from one of serene grace to a contorted amalgamation of pain. Her breathing rapidly became erratic, with her soft chest rising and falling at a high rate. Marth scowled loudly, as if her abdomen had been slashed open by a dull, rusted blade.

"Marth!" Marin screamed aloud. "Please, get a hold of yourself! I'm here for you, Marth! Don't give up!" She grabbed Marth's hand with both of her own, and she prayed as hard as she could for Marth's health.

It was not working. Marth's breathing became more out-of-sync, with each passing second, as if she was suffering from hyper-ventilation. Her new clothing dampened under heavy perspiration, and she was visibly shivering.

Marin tightened her grip on Marth's hand, hoping once again that her light would reach Marth like it did before.

But the prince brushed Marin's hands aside. Raising her hand skyward, a stream of tears began to flow from Marth's face.

Marin saw Marth mouth two syllables while the tears continued to fall from beneath her masked eyes. Not being able to bear Marth's suffering any more than she can, Marin began to cry as well. Saddened by Marth's agonizing plight. Saddened by Marth's apparent rejection of Marin's assistance. And, most importantly, saddened at the feeling of helplessness she had at her inability to soothe Marth's soul.

Marth had suddenly rose from her prone position, hands outstretched as far as she could take them. Reaching for the sword that was not there, she roared with all the might that her lungs could muster.

"GRIMA!" she howled with as much venom she could spew into that one word. Marin could feel all of the emotions Marth held when she yelled out that one word: anger, hatred, sorrow, regret, futility, longing, and absolute resolution.

When Marth rose, her mask slipped off of her face. Her hair, once tied back into a bun in order to better hide her identity as a woman, had undone itself, with elegant blue locks flowing majestically down to her chest.

Her façade cracked completely. What was once a strong, stoic, chivalrous, handsome and mysterious prince was now a fragile and vulnerable, yet beautiful young woman. Marin could tell that Marth had bones deep within her closet, ones that she hoped would never see the light of day.

Marth squeezed her sword hand, wondering why she was not holding a sword. Curiously, she looked down and noticed she was no longer earing the regal garb that she arrived in; rather, she was wearing a simplistic, semi-transparent nightgown that did not fit her slender body.

Perplexity dashed across her face, and she looked around to get a better understanding of her current predicament. She met eyes with that same red-haired daydreamer from the beach, but she appeared to have been crying. Marin noticed a small detail that was previously obscured by Marth's mask. On Marth's left eye, unlike her right eye, there was a unique insignia branded directly onto her cornea. It was not like anything Marin had seen before, and she was mesmerized by the abnormality. So much so that she forgot to wipe the tears of joy from her face.

Marth blinked several times, lost on the reason why Marin was staring at her with such genuine interest burning in her eyes. Like Marin was peering right through her mask and into her mind…mask…

It dawned on her.

She wasn't wearing a mask.

Panic consumed Marth as she scrambled hectically to locate the mask and wear it again. When she found it, she quickly placed it on her face, oblivious to the fact that in her haste she put it on asymmetrically.

Marin held in a laugh. Honestly, Marth looked so cute when she was this frantic. For the first time in days, Marin found herself appreciating Marth's femininity. Maybe she was more relieved that Marth had recovered from her coma. Whatever the reason may be, she was truly grateful that Marth was doing okay.

"Welcome back, Prince Marth!" Marin exclaimed jubilantly. She fought the urge to just pounce on her and give her the largest hug she has ever given.

In her euphoria, she overlooked the fact that she regarded Marth with the Hylian tongue, as opposed to Marth's native Altean.

"Where…where am I?" Marth asked in a dazed state.

In her confusion, she overlooked the fact that she regarded Marin with the Hylian tongue, as opposed to her own.

Marin almost squealed.

"Oh. My. Goodness!" Marin yelped. "Prince Marth, I didn't know you can speak Hylian!"

"What are you talking about?" Marth questioned. "Hylian? What even is that? I've never learned this 'Hylian' that you speak of."

"Yet you are speaking it right now, Prince Marth!" Marin countered.

"There must be some confusion." Marth said, still oblivious to her fluent use of Hylian. "There is no possible way that I can speak Hylian."

"Uh, yeah. You are." Marin immaturely rebutted.

"No, I am not."

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"AM NOT!" Marth shouted, losing herself in their cyclic argument.

Marin crossed her hand over her chest, huffing in frustration at Marth's blatant refusal. She WAS speaking Hylian! How could she not realize that?

But…if there was some truth in what Marth had claimed, then one question was prevalent above all else.

How did Marth acquire the ability to speak a language she had never learned before?


End file.
